Page 12 of On Circus Lane

“He did write that lovely song about autumn leaves that Freda James sang,” Jack points out.

I shake my head. “He was stoned. I’m pretty sure that was actually supposed to be about mud and death.”

Jack turns to Ivy and Bee. “Freddy’s picking up Georgina and Theo, so you’ll meet them later.”

Bee wrinkles his nose. “Is that Sal’s flatmate and her boyfriend?”

I nod. “Fair warning, they argue alot, but they seem to really enjoy it. They have more dramas thanEastenders. Last week, Georgina accused Theo of being unfaithful while we were standing by the veg counter in Sainsbury's. It was great for them but not so much for the people trying to get to the broccoli.”

The door opens, and Steven climbs into the back seat. “God, it’s cold,” he says. He looks over at Bee and Ivy. “Hey, it’s good to see you.”

I want to roll my eyes. Steven is always like this with new people—nice as pie and wanting to know everything about them. But soon enough he becomes judgemental and cutting.

Bee offers him a more genuine smile than the one he gave me. “Nice to see you again.”

I’m aware of a silly sense of disappointment. If this pretty man likes Steven, it’s obvious we’re not going to be friendly.

“Okay, time to roll,” I say flatly. Jack looks enquiringly at me, but I don’t respond.

A few hours later, I stretch in my seat and groan. My back is killing me.

Jack and Ivy are asleep, and my other companions are busily involved in the same discussion they’ve been having for the last fifty miles. It’s something to do with Steven’s work, but I’m unsure what as I lost interest after the first thirty boring seconds. I’m gratified to see in my driver’s mirror that even Bee is starting to look glazed.

He glances up and catches my gaze. His eyes widen with what might be concern, and I quickly focus on the road.

Breaking Steven’s monologue, he asks me, “Are you okay?”

“Me?” I ask, startled.

“Yes.”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“You sounded like you were in pain.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. My back is hurting a bit.”

“Oh. Didn’t you do a long drive yesterday as well?”

“I did. How did you know?” I ask, astonished.

“We spoke last night.”

“Didwe?”

For some reason, the air turns frigid again. When Steven gives a sympathetic huff, I direct a glare at him.

“Our conversation was obviously very memorable,” Bee says dryly.

I frantically think of what I can say to keep him talking to me. He has a lovely voice—low, with an undercurrent of amusement in it. I should probably apologise, but before I can open my mouth, he says in a cool voice, “There’s a service station a few miles ahead. Maybe you should stop for a break.”

“Oh, good plan,” I say heartily. “Goodplan.”

Steven snorts, and Jack wakes with a start. “Did I miss something?” he mumbles.

“Not much,” I mutter. “Give the others a ring and ask if they want to meet us at the services.”

“They’re behind us now?” When I nod, he says, “See, I was right. We didn’t lose much time.”

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